


An Interlude at Chateau d'Onterre

by Mr_Customs_Man



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Ghosts, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Customs_Man/pseuds/Mr_Customs_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s this big, empty mansion hidden away in the Emerald Graves. Malika thinks they should make use of it, Sera disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interlude at Chateau d'Onterre

“Indoor plumbing!” Malika crowed as she stuck her hand beneath the faucet, letting the warm water run over her chilled fingers. “I heard about this. You can find it in the Diamond Quarter in Orzammar, but I never thought I’d see it on the surface. Sera, help me fill it up.”

Sera shook her head without taking her eyes off the dark shadows clinging to the corridors, her bow still drawn. “Stop messing around and let’s go.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. What are you so scared about?”

“I ain’t scared! But I can’t shoot ghosts, now can I? Arrows just go right through ‘em!”

“Well, if you can’t hit ghosts, then logically they can’t hit you.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Is that so? Have you ever met a ghost?”

“No, and I ain’t aimin’ to- AAH, NO! STOP! PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON!”

Malika tossed her tunic over her shoulder. It got caught on Sera’s ear. The dwarf gingerly stuck a single toe inside the large, gilded tub and sighed at the warmth. It was amazing. As thankful as she was to have Skyhold as her base of operations, she did not enjoy having to heat buckets of water, one at a time over the fireplace, just to take a bath. Without sparing a second thought she dove straight into the tub, splashing water everywhere. It was so large she could probably do laps in it. Malika plugged her nose and ducked her head underneath the surface.

Barely a second passed before she felt a small - but strong - hand grab her by the shoulder and haul her back to the surface. Malika spluttered as she broke the water and glared fiercely up at Sera, who was staring at her wild-eyed, her bow lying abandoned on the floor. “Don’t do that!” She wailed. “What if the ghosts try to drown you?”

“Why would ghosts want to drown me? I didn’t do anything to them.”

“Um, because they’re ghosts. It’s kinda what ghosts do.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good use of their afterlife.” Malika smiled and pulled back a little, letting Sera take a good long look at her wet, naked breasts. “Come on, let’s have some fun.”

“Oh no, I am not getting naked with a bunch of ghosts floating around watching me.”

“Kinky.”

Sera scrunched up her face and Malika knew she had pushed her too far. But before the elf could begin ranting about the supernatural or ghosts or magic, or whatever else she was afraid of but too proud to admit, a gust of wind whipped through the chateau. The candles were suddenly blown out, leaving the room in total darkness. Sera screamed and, while scrambling to pick up her bow, slipped on the slick, wet tile and fell into the tub arse first. Shambling undead corpses burst through the door and Malika grabbed hold of Sera, hauling her up and out of the tub. She hurled the elf across her shoulder - which, considering their height differences, meant that Sera’s face was pressed quite awkwardly against her bum - and took off at a run, neither remembering to pick up their weapons as they went.

“I told you! But noooo, you’re the Inquisitor and you’re always right and blah, blah, blah!” The voice was muffled slightly, but Malika could feel Sera’s lips moving against her left cheek.

“Not now, Buttercup.”

* * *

The Iron Bull attempted to balance his axe in the palm of his hand. Which is how, incidentally, he took a chunk out of his cheek once. But he was so bored. He wished he had gone off with Malika and Sera instead of babysitting the Vint. Dorian had taken one look at the library and promptly buried himself in the first book he picked up. Bull tried to needle the mage, dying for a little bit of conversation, but the man brushed him off. So, with a sigh and a pout, he settled in for the long haul. Somebody had to watch Dorian’s back since he was too busy digging through the books to pay much attention himself. The axe wobbled and threatened to tip over, and Iron Bull leaned and pitched in an effort to steady it.

That was when a wet, naked dwarf came tearing through the library while half-carrying, half-dragging an equally wet (but lamentably fully-clothed) elf, who was tossing arrows at undead corpses. As was to be expected, the arrows did nothing more than bounce harmlessly off their chests.

That was also when the Iron Bull dropped his axe and nearly took off his big toe.


End file.
